Last Orders
by Dr Megalomania
Summary: Sequel to DRINKING UP. With Bootstrap Bill Turner back from the Grave, Jack discovers he needs to use this most perfect moment to air some grievences ...


Title: Last Orders   
Author: By Doctor Megalomania  
E-Mail: dr_megalomania@hotmail.com / bride_of_chakotay@yahoo.co.uk   
Pairing: Jack/Will, Bootstrap/Jack  
Rating: PG   
Summary: Someone invites the new man in town to have a drink by the fire.  
Disclaimer: Avast! And welcome to my Little world of weirdness!

I state for the record that this is my first fanfic for Pirates of the Caribbean . . . and that I don't own any of the characters that will grace this story! All hail the Mouse! For once they've churned out something that doesn't make me despair of children's futures! Also hail Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom for being inspirations, both did a fantastic performance but I don't need to tell you that! 

Feedback?: yes please!!  
Notes: All you need to know is that I'm usually an anime writer, I'm completely for Yaoi/Slash fiction and that you should know that this has a slash pairing in it. This be my second fic in my 'Drinking Rum' thingy, not quite what I'd term a series just yet. Anyway, meant to be read with Drinking Up, is a follow on from that fic but with a change of point of view, thanks as always for reading! 

Archive: here, there, anywhere, just let me know please!!

"Speaking" 

*Stress/emphasis*

~ Last Orders ~

By Doctor Megalomania

". . . And by the time I'd gotten to her, damn it all to hell William! The blasted strumpet had burnt all the rum. All of it! Every single drop! I almost cried, but you know me William, you know I never cry . . . crying is for the mother who saw her most beautiful child in the world smile for the first time, or for the man who has lost everything . . . fortunately I'm not a strumpet, so no sprogs for this brilliant pirate, nor have I lost everything . . . ah . . . But William, when you . . . and the Pearl . . . that was close, damned close . . . when I watched the Pearl sail away . . . yes, I almost lost everything but then . . . I had the rum. 

. . . what am I smiling at? 

Mate, I smile because I've got you to pay for all the rum tonight. Don't think I didn't watch you pay for Dearest Will as well! So, William Turner, the elder can supply his dear old captain with rum as well . . .

No, honestly that's the only reason . . .

Oh, and the Pearl o'course, she's another reason to smile, don't you think? Aye, we got her all fixed up and primed! She can sail rings around that Norrington fellow, heh, I always find myself rooting for him though . . . one day, maybe he'll get lucky and I'll hang by his noose—

Ease up, William! That's good rum you're choking on!

. . . I didn't realise you got your timbers shivered from the mention of the hemp scarf. William . . . look, you know the Pearl better than any other man alive, you know Norrington hasn't got a chance in hell . . . and besides William, mate . . . you're forgetting one important detail . . . I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. 

That's it; get back to drinking rum . . . what? Move? Where?

The fire? 

Fine, fine, although if my rum gets warm I'll be smacking yer. 

I can too hit you. Your son might be a fast one with the old cutlass, coulda got it from you too, but neither of you are fast enough to out do Captain Jack Sparrow. Remember that time in Singapore when Barbossa riled you against me?

. . . and how many times do I need to tell you I'm a pirate. A bloody scallywag! O'course I cheated! Yer twit. You and your son, both the same. _You cheated! Jack, you ignored the rules of engagement!_ Well of course I bloody cheated! 

What?

No, he does not call me Jack. He calls me Captain Jack Sparrow. . . and on second thoughts so should you.

Because I say so.

Because I do.

Because.

Because if you don't stop asking why, I'll make you eat Mister Cotton's Parrot. 

Ah, Cotton, one of the new crew, a mute who trained his parrot to talk for him. 

Yes I know, we haven't figured out how he did it either yet. Aaah, well, you could always ask him when you get back to the ship. Yes, you back to the ship. Land's made you look old. I see a few grey hairs, William. Hah, hah! Yer old fool, I'm riling you! Your hair's just as silken and luxurious as the day I last run me fingers through it. Although, I notice to some disappointment William, you seem to be missing a couple of beads . . . 

. . . well. Barbossa's dead, not much else I can do to him . . . but I'll have a word with my friend down below and see what I can get arranged for him.

Drink up William, all this talk has made me feel quite . . . sober . . . and that's one state I don't care to dwell in for long. 

So . . . why not tell me how you escaped from the briny deep and why it's taken you nine years to find me and the lad?

Angry? 

With you?

Look me in the eye and say that again. I don't get angry with you, William. The last time I was truly angry with you was when I first boarded the ship and you and Barbossa decided to call me Cabin Boy Nancy. 

William . . .

. . . please don't go sober on me. 

When Barbossa took over the ship there wasn't much you could have done . . . I mean, aside from killing him where he stood but then . . . you would have been killed by the rest of those mutinous dogs. I . . . I would have been angry at you then, getting killed like that, like an honest idiot. 

You know . . . your son's an honest idiot. 

A bit like you . . . how in the hell has your family produced some of the most brilliant pirates yet still each and every one of yer are honest idiots? 

Hey . . . ease up on the goods, luv . . . just stating a fact . . .

. . . huh? 

Nothing, I just . . . I just surprise myself that's all, William . . . I, uh . . . I missed you, mate . . . best pair of hands there ever was, and the best navigator. I kept your compass, see? 

Still pointing the way to treasure, just like you made it . . . I don't know how you made it but . . . it still means a lot to me. 

I'm . . . sorry. 

You heard me and I'm not repeating it, not even for the likes of you.

I wish I'd made you first mate rather than Barbossa. But I trusted him . . . not that I didn't trust you, it was just he was the eldest and having you as my first mate would mean you'd have to take the helm when I was resting . . . 

We make a good team, William Turner. Always have. 

With Barbossa as first mate, it meant I could spend a little time with you . . .

Aye, it's . . . it's bad rum . . . it's not making me drunk enough . . . or maybe too drunk, that's what's loosened me tongue . . .

Anyway, you know I liked you, always have . . . but then there was the business with that English girl and her father, and that donkey . . . well, at least one good thing came out of it, eh? I got a nice new hat.

. . . oh, yes, of course and dear Young Will was born. Very nice, we all got something we love dearly, you have a son, and I have my hat. It's a good hat, stopped my brain from baking.

Shut up. And drink your rum. 

I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, and if I tell you to wipe that cocky grin off your smug bloody features, you shall do so promptly without grinning at me like a bloody cat. Bloody man. 

Anyway—

No, go on . . . what are you babbling about?

What happened to Barbossa? Aye, well . . . he took the Pearl as you know, and got to the gold as you know, sank you by your bootstraps as you know, and then sailed off, becoming some sort of stupid legend on the high seas. I was locked up in prison at Port Royal and the blathering idiots in the prison next to me start talking about the Pearl, how she'd leave no survivors . . .

Ah! See! See! We think alike all the time! That's exactly what I said! How can you have stories about a ship if there are never any survivors?!

. . . William . . .

I don't want you to get . . . no, I am being serious, there's something terribly wrong . . . no, don't turn around! William . . . I . . . I . . . oh, god William! Won't you make it stop?! The horror! The horror!!

. . . yes, I'm bloody being serious! 

My bottle of rum is horrifyingly empty!! William! Do something! Quickly! I can feel myself growing faint . . . almost fading away . . . no rum . . . must get rum . . . Rum . . .

. . . thanks mate, you're a good'un and while you're up at the bar, tell 'em to keep 'em comin', I'm feeling a little dry tonight . . .

Heh, heh . . . I missed you so much . . .

What? No, not a word . . . ol' Jack's lips were sealed the entire time. Hush man, I didn't say anything of the sort; now let me drink me rum in piece!

Bloody scallywag, forgets the importance of rum . . . beloved rum!

You're almost as bad as dear Will's strumpet!

. . . pardon me?

Yes, I can be bloody polite sometimes, stop laughing at me, man or I swear, you sleep with Cotton's Parrot!

Will's strumpet. Ah, Miss Elizabeth Swann, daughter of Port Royal's governor.

Yes, I know. He really does know how to pick them. A whole bundle of trouble he caused as well. When Barbossa attacked Port Royal and kidnapped the lass, yours truly had to be sprung from jail in order to lead Dear Will to Barbossa and said strumpet. 

Much to do over such little things, the living undead, cursed treasure, run-ins with the British navy . . .

And when it was all over I was caught again by Norrington and almost hanged and that was . . . a . . . William? Hello, William? 

. . . William . . . 

Aye, that day it was close . . . very close . . . ah, they even got through the list of transgressions against the state . . . heh, remember the Church of England thing, when I was a priest and we had to shave you and put you up as a nun? Yeah . . . they got that one down as well . . .

William, come on now . . . I said it was close, as close as can be, but I'm here, aren't I? Not dead, still breathing . . . William, come on . . . Drink some more rum before it gets warm, eh? 

Anyway, Dear Will, the younger of course . . . comes along and saves my neck. Perfect aim . . . never told you, did I? He has perfect aim! First time I met him he managed to lock the door shut, barely missing my head by an inch . . . then again, he could have been aiming for my head in the first place . . .

What had I done? 

What makes you think I did anything . . .?

. . . why would I bother with the truth?

Unless, o'course, I'd been telling you the truth and knew you wouldn't believe me anyway . . .

Fine, fine . . . bloody honest idiot!

To tell you the utter truth, I had by that point threatened the strumpet, insulted his honour and called him a eunuch. What? You look at me like I deserved to have a cutlass through the back of my bandana!

Oh, come on! William, he told me he spent three hours a day practicing with his sword . . . No man spends three hours of his day practicing with a sword. Unless he is a eunuch. Or part of the navy. 

Can I continue my story now?

I do not go off on tangents! You've been distracting me! See? I've a half full tankard of beloved rum! Captain Jack Sparrow. Beloved rum undrunk. It doesn't work. It's like . . . Black Pearl. Norrington.

Oooh. . . that shivered my timbers. I can hear the Pearl too, she doesn't even want to imagine it!

That's a scary thought, innit?

. . . Norrington commanding the Pearl . . . 

I'm gonna need a couple more rounds of rum to get rid of that thought . . . 

Too much rum?

What the hell does that mean?! It's like a pirate saying he's had too much pilfering! What kind of a pirate are you, William Turner? Too much rum?! Bah! 

Now shut up and drink your bloody rum!

Bloody man, bloody not drinking his rum! Your son is a eunuch I say, a eunuch! And you! You are a bloody weird pirate! I'm surrounded by eunuchs, weird pirates and parrots!

. . . William, ease on the goods, luv . . .

A scene? Me? O'course I'm making a bloody scene, me best friend, the best friend I've ever had has come back from the depths and he's sitting here drinking good old rum with me like the old days! 

Aye . . . looking at you now, it's just like the old days . . . damnit William . . . you've not changed a bit, still as stupidly pretty as the day I first met you . . . 

. . . hmm?

No, I must have fallen asleep for a few moments there . . . yes, I can sleep with me eyes open; I do it all the time . . . no, I was not staring at you wistfully. Captain Jack Sparrow stares at no man wistfully. He stares at empty bottles of rum wistfully. 

Shut up, William.

Look old man—

Yes, you old man! You be seven years older than me, therefore I reserve the right to call you an old man! 

Anyway, old man, I stare at no man wistfully. Besides it's your own fault for being so stupidly pretty. Why the hell can't you just be roguishly handsome like me? Your son's just the same! It's a bloody plot against me! Get me some more rum and stop laughing at me! I'm not here to bloody amuse you!

. . . bloody scallywag . . .

Thank you, now where were we?

Ah yes . . . why the hell are you so stupidly pretty?

Yes, I'm bloody drunk. Stop answering my questions with bloody questions! You stupidly pretty . . . I can't call you a eunuch, dear William the younger puts paid to the insult . . . you stupidly pretty weird pirate! 

Staring at you wistfully . . . bah! We all know you prefer the arms of a strumpet to the arms of your fellow man.

Bitter? 

Maybe. I know you can't help it William, but . . . you are so stupidly pretty. And your bloody son's the same! I can't help but wonder if there's another curse, one that sticks me with the stupid pretty honest idiots who would rather be with bloody strumpets than with me!

What the hell are you staring at, William, with that bloody cocky grin? 

Didn't I tell you to get rid of it?

. . . yes. I'm sulking now. It's not bloody fair, I've not done any . . . well, I've done wrong in my life but at least I'm fairly . . . well, nice isn't the right word but until they come up with a better—

Huh?

That's it! I'm a good man and a good pirate! Exactly! I don't bloody deserve this. Well, I might do . . . but still . . . the fact is why—

What about him?

I know his strumpet dumped him, why the hell else would he be here in old Tortuga, William? Did you find out why he came *here* though? I would have thought he's stay with his 'smithy joint until that drunken old master of his drowned in rum?

Isn't that a positively beautiful way to die, William? Drowning in rum? I can only hope that one day I go to such a fate—

William, really, I have no plans of dying anytime soon, please stop looking so panicked every time I mention the old 'reaper. 

Where was I?

Ah, yes, dear William the younger. I know his strumpet dumped him. But why is he here? He's really a little too trusting for the likes of the scallywags and strumpets here. 

He's what?

Why the hell would he do such a thing? Who in Tortuga needs a 'smithy? 

What are you grinning at now?! I swear you never grinned this much in the old days, the sea's drove you mad, that's it, isn't it? Ah, my poor dear friend! I've truly lost him to the briny deep; his mind is filled with barnacles! 

What?!

I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv, nobody tells me to shut up! Now, what's got your mouth stretching in such a face?

. . . you think he does?

That's interesting . . . that's very interesting . . .

Well, I do need a couple new crewmen . . . the Pearl does need a bit of work, a new navigator and a gun and sword's smith would come in handy . . . you're come back with me to the Pearl, even if I have to drag you by your girly hair. But dear William the younger, think he will come with me?

. . . what do you know that I don't?

Blind? Do you see me eyes? They're as clear as the day I was born! That and I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, nothing gets by me!  

You think something has? 

Oh really?

So. . . what is it exactly, I've not seen? 

William looks to me because I saved him and his strumpet. He is shocked that I proved the pirates aren't such a bad lot to throw yourself with . . . why?

Now, now William, don't be teasing me.

Dear William the younger would gladly die for his strumpet, even if she has dumped him. I doubt very much he'd do the same for me . . . well, actually . . .

Now that you mention it . . .

. . . yes, yes, stop hurrying me man, I'm thinking. . .

What?!

Shut up and drink your rum, and fewer remarks about me swiftness of thinking! I'm madly brilliant; I'll have you know! Or was it brilliantly mad? One of the two I'm sure . . . anyway, he would die for me, I suppose . . . out of some misguided sense of honour, I mean he did save me that day from the hangman's noose at the extreme risk of ending up handing his boots to the hangman as well as mine . . .

You know, they didn't even let me wear my hat that day . . .

That's why I was so upset and down, I would have made a ton of jokes, to brighten the mood, but they'd taken away my hat . . . 

. . . What?

I am on the point, the point is you should never take a pirate's hat from him . . . it's bad luck, as Mister Gibbs would say . . .

Stop shaking your head, William Turner. I'm coming back to Young Will. 

Perhaps, let's say he does want something more from me . . . let's say a strumpet can't give him what he wants . . . but he doesn't realise it yet, how do you suggest I go about showing him without managing to get myself kebabbed on one of his fine swords?

. . . yes, I am asking you how to seduce your son, William Turner, you brought it up. 

Well? You seem to think that he wouldn't be too averse to sharing me bed with me; you think he came here looking for me, don't you? 

Aah, now it's my turn to be a grinning idiot! See? I know you too well, William, I know how your mind works . . . you want to see your son happy, and you wanna see your little protégée happy as well . . .

What?

Yes, I do know big words.

You git. Get me some more rum!

Bloody stupidly pretty, honest idiot.

Thank ye very much, a thousand pieces of gratitude for this bless'ed bottle of beautiful, beloved rum . . . 

. . . aye, that's the stuff . . . 

Yer haven't answered me question, William. Do you really think that Young Will came looking for me? Why? Think maybe he's squaring with the old pirate's blood in him? I'll show him every trick you showed me, teach him to be one of the best pirates on the seven seas . . . aye, Will Turner, son of Bootstrap Bill . . . we'd have to come up with a better name for him o'course . . . 

I don't change subjects; we're still talking about Young Will, aren't we? Exactly. Well then, you owe me another drink. After this one, and the one after that . . . 

. . . hmm?

No, I was just thinking . . . you told Young Will that a ship had come into cove; looking for a blacksmith . . . just wondering . . . how did you know it was me, William?

Why am I suddenly so sober? Last orders, William . . . place is starting to clear . . . not so worried about the ears listening . . . well, William? 

Aye . . . I heard that Miss Elizabeth had said goodbye to William, and on the same wind, I'd heard he came to Tortuga . . . and was same wind that carried the Pearl this way . . . 

He's a good man; he could be a good pirate . . . either way, he'd make a good crewman about the Pearl, most of the crew likes him and he . . . he works hard, needs to train in the dishonesty of a pirate into him, and the love of gold, the taking of another ship and beloved rum into him, but still those are things that you learn . . . 

He's . . . stupidly pretty, like you, William . . . 

A bloody honest idiot, and stupidly pretty . . . 

You said I'd taken him, but have I? 

Maybe, or it could be I have him the same way I had you . . . the best of friends, an excellent pair together but no more, and my bed still is cold . . . 

Ah, William, you think it's something more but . . . it could just be the pirates blood in him . . . the excitement of the sea, the love of the treasure . . . 

The smell of fresh gunpowder . . .

That's what drew me to you, y'know . . . you always smelt of gunpowder . . . you stank of danger, and it thrilled me . . . aye, Barbossa wasn't too happy to find that it was you I went to, he was our good friend, and he made first mate . . . but it made him cold to realise that I trusted you more, went to your cabin for advice . . . 

Aye . . . you know what the boy smells of? 

Fire and gunpowder and danger.

Just like you.

It's tangled in his hair; it's on his clothes . . . he sweats it in the noonday sun, when he bathes, it's even stronger . . . ah, William . . . 

You know I followed him here, you know he came here looking for me. 

But really William, do you know how he really feels . . .? I want a new crewman, but I desire dear Will.

You heard me . . . and I won't be repeating myself . . . 

What are you grinning at now?

. . . wha . . .?

Ah! Dear William the Younger! Finally awoken from the drunken stupor your errant father tricked you into! Aye, here he is! The father you've always missed! Bootstrap Bill meet William Turner, Blacksmith Extraordinaire of Port Royal!

Ah, such a happy family reunion . . . I hate to trespass . . . 

No, no William . . . I mean him . . . not you, him . . . the old one! Anyway, Bootstrap Bill, you just sit there and talk with Blacksmith Bill. There, excellent way of telling you both apart . . . I'm going to go get one more bottle of beloved rum to see me through the night, and then I'll go procure myself a dear little strumpet to keep me warm when the rum wears off . . .

. . . ease on the goods, Blacksmith luv . . . I'll be needing that arm tomorrow, when we set sail . . .

Did I mean what?

As a new crewman, yes, yes . . . the Pearl sets off with the two William Turners manning the decks . . . 

What else did I say?

Oh. . . you heard . . .

Bootstrap . . . what have I told you about that grin? 

Look, Blacksmith . . . I won't be lying to you, but then again I'm a dishonest man so you can't trust me to be telling the truth . . . 

That and I'm fairly drunk . . ."

William 'Bootstrap Bill' chuckled quietly as he stroked the fire. His son, William Turner, Blacksmith Extraordinaire of Port Royal, grasped Captain Jack Sparrow by the elbow, refusing to let the elder pirate go. Old Turner leant back in his chair, getting comfortable as the two stared at each other hotly . . . angrily to the passing observer, but to Bootstrap Bill . . .

He chuckled again as he watched lust fire up in Jack Sparrow's eyes, reminding the old pirate of a time when a young cabin boy by the name of Sparrow used to glare at him with such a fire in his eyes . . .  

~ Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho! ~


End file.
